Thursday, October 26, 2017

This week, Mesivta Ohr Naftali of New Windsor, NY, where I am
privileged to serve as General Studies Principal each afternoon, celebrated a special
milestone. They have just completed the construction of a magnificent new Bais
Medrash, and it was crowned with a Hachnasas Sefer Torah.

After the dancing and singing ended with the new Torah being
placed in the beautiful, newly constructed Aron Hakodesh, everyone sat down in
the new Bais Medrash for the speeches. As a member of the hanhala of the
yeshiva, I was honored to be seated on the lower dais. I found a seat off to
the side, but within a few minutes I was asked to move to the middle to
accommodate a Rav who was wheel-chair bound. I soon found myself seated directly
in the center, beneath the speaker. On one side of me there were three empty
seats, since no one wanted to sit dead-center below the speaker.

I think there should be a quick lesson consisting of tips and
survival ideas, as well as the dos and don’ts for sitting on a dais. Despite
the fact that I’m sure no one was interested in what I was doing, I felt quite
self-conscious, knowing that I was in the peripheral view of virtually the entire
crowd. Although the speeches were passionate and inspiring, I spent much of
that hour trying to figure out what to do with my fingers and how to remain
somewhat inconspicuous.

Recently, I heard the following story:

Rav Shlomo Zalman Aurebach zt’l was a mechutan with the Kapishnitzer
Rebbe zt’l. At the end of the chasunah of their children, they were both
waiting outside the wedding hall for the rides that would bring them home.
Immediately, one of the rebbe’s chassidim ran inside and came back with a chair
for the elderly rebbe to sit on. The rebbe, however, refused to sit down. He
explained to the chasid that a person needs to live his life in such a manner
that at any time if a photograph was taken of him, he would be happy with how
it would appear to others.

“Imagine”, continued the rebbe, “if a picture was taken of me
while I was sitting and, next to me, the great Rosh Yeshiva, Rav Shlomo Zalman,
was standing. How shameful it would be!”

In his famous lecture, ‘Ten Steps to Greatness’, Rav Avigdor
Miller zt’l, suggests that once a day a person should stop and pose, as if for
a picture, to remind himself that he is constantly being viewed by the
celestial courts. It is the same message that the Kapishnitzer Rebbe related to
his chosid - one must always feel that
his every action matters and helps define who he is.

This is in fact what Yiras Shamayim is about - living one’s
life with a real sense that he is always standing in the presence of Hashem.

Thankfully, we may not have to spend our lives on a dais in
full view of large crowds, but the G-d-fearig person lives life knowing that
nothing he does goes unseen or is unimportant.

Thursday, October 19, 2017

What an incredible few weeks it’s been! The tefilllos,
special mitzvos, extra family time, trips, and wonderful meals are all part of
what makes the Yom Tov season such an incredible experience. But, all good
things must come to an end.

Following havdalah on Motzei Shabbos, after the third “3-day
Yom Tov” in four weeks, we put our younger children to sleep, began the
incessant loading and unloading of the washing machine, and straightening up
the house.

Although none of our children complained of any such
symptoms, Chani and I both felt slightly lightheaded. It was definitely a
possible side effect of the whole Yom Tov experience. But to be sure we went to
double check our carbon monoxide detector. It turned out that what I thought
was a smoke detector and carbon monoxide detector was only the former. So I
plugged in a spare carbon monoxide detector from our drawer. After blinking a
few times, it emitted a long relentless beep. When we tried it a second time
and a third time with the same result I called 9-1-1. I told the dispatcher
that we were unsure if our carbon monoxide detector was defective or if we had
a serious problem. Within minutes there was a police car, fire engine, and
ambulance in front of our home - all with their lights flashing.

As soon as the first emergency responder pulled up, he told
us to immediately take everyone out of the house. Most of the personnel were frum
Jews and we could’ve had a minyan for maariv if we haven’t already davened. As
soon we carried all of our sleeping children outside, the firemen entered our
home with their high-tech detector. They searched their house but found no
detection of any carbon monoxide, bh.

A few minutes later, a representative of the electric company
arrived and did a more thorough inspection, which thankfully also came up with
nothing.

Within fifteen minutes, the block was as quiet as it had been
a few minutes earlier, save for our twins who were now wide awake and ready to
start their day. But, bh, all is well that ends well.

The next morning, I was teaching our Sunday morning
post-shachris Mesillas Yesharim class in shul. The Ramchal writes that one of
the ways one can achieve yiras shomayim (fear of heaven) is by picturing in
one’s mind that when he davens he is literally communicating with the Master of
the World, in whose Presence he stands, and Who is hearkening to his every
word. Ramchal adds that this is particularly challenging for us because our
natural senses cannot help us recognize this truth. Normally we employ our
natural senses in order to viscerally experience anything. But to recognize how
connected one is with G-d when he prays requires intellectual reflection.

The same reason carbon monoxide is so dangerous, is why we
have a hard time realizing how incredible is our power of prayer – we have a
hard time believing things we cannot physically see/experience. But just as the
toxicity of carbon monoxide is real despite our inability to detect it, so too
is the profundity and power of our prayers every time we turn to G-d and seek
to connect with Him.

We would be wise to reflect upon that truism every time we
begin to daven.

Wednesday, October 11, 2017

A friend related that this year,
aside from his other "kabbalos" (spiritual New Year's resolutions),
he has also accepted upon himself not to get angry or frustrated if/when he
"messes up".

It's actually a brilliant and
integral tactical move.

We are all aware of how our
conscience/evil inclination works against us. We resolve to become better and
improve in a certain area, and pledge to accomplish certain feats that have
hitherto eluded us. We set out full of gusto and momentum... until!

When we encounter that initial
"until" it's usually sufficient to completely unravel us and burst
our bubble. The little vexing voice tells us we already blew it, and so we
might as well just throw in the towel now, and spare ourselves further
aggravation. However, now that my friend had an added resolution to not allow
himself to become bent out of shape when unable to fulfill his pledge, he is
still keeping a resolution by not allowing it to get to him. It's a
counter-tactic to keep himself going. By not allowing himself to give up, he
can feel that there is no reason to give up, and to stay the course even after
a slip.

My rebbe, Rabbi Berel Wein, relates
that he had a sign that read "confidence is the feeling you have, until
you realize the problem".

In order to ensure that one will be
able to maintain his confidence, he needs to be as proactive as possible.

This year, this piece of advice is
invaluable. Undoubtedly, as we dance and elatedly celebrate the conclusion of
another cycle of Torah, and set to begin anew, many will pledge to be more
vigilant about reviewing the parsha each week. Perhaps it will be to be ma'avir
sedra (review the parsha) which one had been derelict about until now, or
to be more vigilant about learning shnayim mikra v'echad targum (twice
the Chumash and once a translation), or to learn Rashi, or perhaps to undertake
learning an added commentary such as Ramban or Seforno. Regardless of what the
resolution is, this year is a 'resolution killer'. After the excited dancing of
Simchas Torah ends and one enjoys a restful Friday evening, as he heads home
from shul the following morning, he is already a parsha behind. And what a
parsha it is!

Parshas Bereishis spans Creation and
the first thousand years up to the flood. It also includes the primordial sin
and banishment from Gan Eden, and Kayin murdering Hevel. If ever there was a
parsha which needed a full week at least, this was it. Instead, in Eretz
Yisroel they have a day in a half, and in the diaspora we have barely half a
day.

So as we accept upon ourselves to
re-dedicate ourselves to learning the parsha each week, we should also accept
to not become discouraged within the first two days of the new cycle.

The first sin was due to the wily
scheme of the snake, we should ensure that we try not to fall prey to his old
tricks.

Tuesday, October 3, 2017

Shortly
before we left to camp this past June, our landscaper did some cleanup work
around our yard. That included clearing pieces of wood that had been stacked on
the side of our house for quite some time, left there by a lazy worker who had
done construction in our basement a while back.

Our
landscaper brought the pieces of wood and boards to the top of our property,
where the garbage men would be able to easily clear them away. The problem was
that the garbage men did not clear it away. After a few weeks, we inquired and
were informed that they do not pick up construction materials, and apparently
our few pieces of wood were deemed ‘construction materials’. We were expected
to bring it to some other location and to pay for its removal. There was also another
unofficial option - to catch the garbage men on pickup day, offer them a few
cold beers and twenty dollars, and they would be sure to take it, despite
official policy.

Being
that we never seemed to be there at the same time as the garbage men, those
pieces of lumber sat at the top of our driveway throughout the summer. It
became a real eye sore for us, especially when they were still there when we
arrived home from camp.

Then,
last week, a friend noted that a neighbor of ours is doing construction and has
a dumpster in front of his house. He probably wouldn't care if I threw in a few
extra pieces. Indeed, our neighbor didn't mind at all. So, on Thursday night,
the night before Yom Kippur, I loaded those annoying pieces of lumber into the
back of our van, and disposed of them once and for all.

It
was a great feeling to finally be rid of the debris that had been there for
months.

Someone
asked me recently, what is the difference between Aseres Yimei Teshuva and the
rest of the year. After all, don't we know that sincere repentance can be
accomplished throughout the year? Can't we call out in tefillah to Hashem at
all times?

The
difference is that throughout the year, repentance is indeed attainable but it
requires a far greater initiation and effort by the penitent. During the Aseres
Yimei Teshuva however, there is a 'spiritual dumpster sitting on the lawn',
waiting for us to cast our sins in there. Undoubtedly, casting away our
spiritual debris requires sincere effort; however, it is far easier than the
rest of the year when such sins need to be "carted off", and only
then cast away. Doing teshuva during these days is part of the zeitgeist, and
the atmosphere in the air helps us along.

The
next morning, I had a further observation:

The
Medrash Tamchuma (Emor, 22)
curiously states that the first day of succos is the “first (day) for the
calculation of sins”. The Medrash then asks why the day after Yom Kippur isn't
the first day for the calculation of sins? It would seem that during the day
after we have been forgiven, we have to immediately begin reckoning the sins of
the new year?

The
Medrash answers that during the days between Yom Kippur and Succos one is so
busy readying himself for Succos and all of its endemic mitzvos (erecting his
succah and purchasing his daled minim) that he has no time to sin. Therefore,
it is only on the first day of Succos that one begins to calculate his sins.

When
I arrived home the night after I carted off all the lumber from the top of our
driveway, I couldn't fully appreciate the fact that it was gone. But the
following morning, as I got into my car, and saw the empty space and how nice
it looked after three months, it was a very good feeling.

During
the days between Yom Kippur and Succos we are consumed with preparation for the
upcoming holiday. But when the Yom Tov begins and we enter our regal succah,
and are permeated with a feeling of august holiness, it strikes us that the
weight of the sins we carried with us for so long, is gone. It is only then
that we can fully appreciate our Herculean efforts throughout the days when we
were engaged Teshuva. The first day of succos then, is our first opportunity to
begin calculating all of the sins and guilt that we have divested ourselves of.

It
is all part of the sublime joy of this incredible holiday, the consequence of
taking out the spiritual debris and being cleansed and purified.